


Splinter

by SORD



Category: Gintama
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Joui4 - Freeform, in a way i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:24:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SORD/pseuds/SORD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of Tatsuma and Gintoki and a splinter and a kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Splinter

It’s late at night and Gintoki has a splinter. In his defense, it’s deep,  _really_ deep and it’ll leave a decent puncture once it comes out, and it probably stings like a bastard - but it’s small enough to qualify as a splinter, and he’s being kind of a baby about it. Some people (Shinsuke) seem to find his complaints irritating. Tatsuma finds them endearing. And obnoxious. Mainly endearing. Probably like, 80% endearing. 

"Zuuuuur _aaaaaahhhh_ , I have a  _splinter_ , it  _huuuuurts_.”

60% charming. 60/40 adorable/annoying. 55% cute, at least. More appealing than aggravating. Slightly.

Zura ignores him because Zura is busy doing Zura things. Zura things are always mysterious - sweeping cobwebs out of a barn they’ll be sleeping in for a single night, scratching out a bedroom floor-plan (complete with imaginary doors and windows) on the dirt floor, spreading out prickly hay in the shape of a futon. Zura is destined to make some lucky person a wonderful mother, provided he lives long enough.

"Takasugi, please, I’m  _dying_ " but Shinsuke is already out the door. He probably has important short person duties to attend to, like trying to reach items on high shelves and complaining about tall barstools.

Gintoki spins around and despite Tatsuma's best efforts, makes eye contact. 

" _Tatsuuuuuu-_ "

The fiercest warrior in their army is silenced by a flick to the forehead. It's the Sakamoto family secret technique - as the youngest of five children Tatsuma can attest to its effectiveness. Don't let the Amanto know.

"Ahaha, shut up and c'mere." There's not much light, and their remaining candles are guttering. Can't take out a splinter in the dark, and poor Gintoki won't survive the night. This is obviously a life-threatening fragment of wood. Time is of the essence "Gimme your finger."

The Shiroyasha is known for his fierceness in battle, his unrelenting attacks, his total disregard for personal safety, except, apparently, when it comes to a sliver of wood in his fingertip. He puts his finger in his mouth and looks sullen.

"If you don't show me your finger I can't get the splinter out, and if you suck on it you're going to get an infection." It's deja vu all over again. Tatsuma feels a deep pang of sympathy for his older sisters. Was he this bad? Probably worse.

"I don't wanna, it's going to hurt. Go away." Nope, definitely not worse.

The building is lit by dying pools of light. Zura is picking burrs off of a blanket. Takasugi is off somewhere being short and mad. Gintoki is sucking on his finger, probably softening the wood and making the splinter harder to get out, and Tatsuma is getting annoyed. He wants to get this over with. Maybe this'll be some kind of manly bonding ritual, but most likely it's gonna be an embarrassing pain in the ass.

"Hahah, Gintoki, what would they say if you died from an infected splinter? You can't be killed by something even smaller than Shinsuke, you'd never live it down!" 

(In the distance - a scream of fury? No, probably just the mating call of some tiny creature. Too miniature to be of any significance.)

Gintoki's tragic splinter-death will be bad for The Cause and anything bad for The Cause makes Zura ramble on to no end and Takasugi moodier than he usually is. Anything detrimental to The Cause must be avoided at all costs. This splinter needs to come out. "Quit dicking around and hold out your hand."

"Oi, stop asking me to finger you, nasty man."

Enough is enough. Tatsuma grabs Gintoki's narrow wrist and tugs it close. There's a token resistance but he capitulates easily enough. With the wounded extremity trapped, Tatsuma summons his colleague to the emergency room. "Katsura-sensei, a needle, if you please. We must commence the operation posthaste."

"Of course, Sakamoto-sensei." Nurse Katsura pulls a pin from his sleeve and runs it through the candle flame. Not the best method of sterilization, but better than nothing. His co-surgeon wipes the blackened end of the instrument with a clean cloth and hands it over. Be careful not to touch the tip, you don't want to have to re-sterilize the operating tools mid-surgery.

Gintoki is whimpering a little - "I don't wanna, leave it in, it's ok, _Takasugi, help me_ " - but Sakamoto barely hears it. He's trying to remember how to do this. He recalls playing in an old tree and then running to his eldest sister, tearful until she flicks his forehead. How did she fix it?

Gently pinch the finger. Slip the needle into the wound - careful, don't want to push the splinter in any further - slide it _next_ to the splinter, not under or over, then gently, gently, gently coax it out. When there's enough of the sliver outside of the skin, pinch it with your fingernails and pull slow and straight. There, it's out, and so's the needle. Now say -

"There, sweetheart. That's my brave boy."

Then Tatsuma comes back to himself and realizes he's not his sister comforting his own four-year-old self. He's called his comrade 'sweetheart'. Whoops.

Sometime during the process (which must have taken longer than Tatsuma thought, the candles are almost out) Zura has drifted over to the corner of the barn and is making rice balls. It's just the two of them together, doctor and patient, bathed in the flickering light. It's almost physically painful to lift his head and look at Gin's face, and he makes sure to slap on a sunny smile and prepare a big loud laugh to defuse the situation.

The laugh dies when he meet's Gin's eyes. They're mysterious, liquid, luminous in the shadows. Tatsuma can't really read their expression. He takes a breath. The operation is almost done. There's one more step.

He brings Gintoki's finger to his lips and gently kisses it. 

"Now you're all better."

There's a breathless moment. It feels like forever. Then Zura, stupid infuriating _thoughtful_ Zura, tells Gin to go wash his hand. "I'll bandage it for you when you get back, then you can help me make onigiri."

"Nobody wants to eat, weirdo, it's the middle of the night."

"Did I say anything about _eating_? I just said _making_."

"You and your dumb rituals, I swear - " and Gin leaves, muttering about wigs and nagging mothers. 

The barn is quiet. 

Sakamoto stands, knees popping (isn't he too young for aching joints? Aren't they _all_ too young?) and meanders over to his pile of straw 'futon'. It's prickly and cold but better than nothing. 

He closes his eyes and licks a drop of Gintoki's blood from his lips. It tastes like salty iron. Tatsuma's still holding the splinter. He rolls it between his fingers until he falls asleep. In the morning it's gone, mixed in with the straw. 

 

 


End file.
